


Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

by Taimat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-10
Updated: 2011-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taimat/pseuds/Taimat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sloppy makeouts, irony battles, and Bro in a robe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of "This Side Up"-verse, but it can be read as a standalone, as well.
> 
> The comic can be found here: http://loonytwin.tumblr.com/tagged/tsu

He whimpers into your mouth, slender legs bracketing your lap as he subtly grinds down against you. He doesn’t want you to realize that he’s doing it, of course, being much too shy for that. It had taken forever to get him to agree even to this, but you finally have him on top of you, knees pressing into the mattress, and you debate falling back onto it and dragging him with you, but you’re not sure if he’s ready for that.

His head lifts and tips back when he pulls away to take a breath, but you don’t want to come up for air. You lean closer to press a kiss to the base of his neck, just where it meets his shoulders, the action made possible by the way you’re maybe tugging on his shirt a little bit. Maybe. You follow the delicate tendon of his neck up, up, up, pressing your lips to his pulse and then opening your mouth, biting down just hard enough that he can feel the edge of your teeth.

A soft keening escapes him, and he shudders. You debate slipping a hand down his pants before deciding that he’s not quite distracted enough for that, yet.

He lets you cup and turn his jaw, pressing closer to you when your lips brush beneath it. He swallows, and your arm tightens around his lower back. Your tongue licks behind his earlobe once, and he makes something between a giggle and a moan, so you do it again. His arms drape over your shoulders, but as your sucking turns a bit harder, worrying at the sensitive spot just below his ear that he’d swear he doesn’t have, one of his hands fists in your hair.

You can’t help but grin against his skin.

And just when things are getting good and you think you might finally be able to get to second base, he stiffens completely, breath stilling.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds to figure out why. Your door was left open. It was kind of bound to happen. Oops. You turn to see if your Bro’s still standing there, but he’s gone. John is simply frozen in fright. Or surprise. Or embarrassment. Or maybe all of them. His breath’s gone shallow, and you can see his pulse fluttering beneath his skin.

“Hey. Hey, calm down.”

“But…your Bro! He saw us! Oh, god, I bet he’s still out there! I bet he can hear me!” At that, John claps a hand over his mouth, and his eyes go wide, staring down at you in horror.

You can’t help but give a breathy laugh. How is it even possible for him to be this cute?

“It’s not like he minds. Hell, he’ll probably bake me a Congratulations on the Sex cake. Complete with penis-shaped candles. Except they’ll be the fucking trick ones that never go out no matter how much you blow on them.” You smirk, but it’s a testament to how freaked out John is that he doesn’t even catch the innuendo. “Okay, seriously, what’s got you so riled up?”

“Dave! He was wearing…was wearing…” At this point, John squeaks and buries his face in his hands.

Ah, okay. “Was it the one covered in hearts or the one with My Little Ponies prancing around?”

“What!?” comes the exclamation, and John peeks through his fingers.

“Which robe was it?”

“I-It had, um, hearts.”

“You’re lucky then. The pony one barely covers his ass. He must’ve dressed up because I had company. What a right southern gentleman. Clearly he approves of our relationship.”

You try to duck back into John’s neck, but he pushes you away with strength that isn’t at all surprising.

“Dave, we can’t! Your Bro is…”

You wait impatiently. “Is?”

“He’s out there!”

“For fuck’s sake, John, he’s not a goddamn alien. Besides, you like aliens!” You get no reaction beyond a huff, so you slide him sideways off your lap to bounce on the mattress. “Okay, fine.”

It takes about two seconds to cross to the door, and close it, locking it with a little flourish, just for John’s benefit. You’re feeling pretty swag and accommodating, and then all of that dissipates when a belted, “Use protection!” echoes through the apartment.

You huff and crack the door open again, enough to yell back, “Oh my god! Stop ruining my life! I’m gonna have lots of little Egbert babies and you can’t stop me!” You let your shoulders fall against the door as it closes again, satisfied with channeling your teenage girl. There is no reply, and you relax. Maybe he’s cutting you some slack so you can impress your man.

Or he’s plotting.

Damn you, Bro.

John’s just staring at you from his position on your bed, half-sprawled on his side and propped on one elbow so he can watch you. He’s flushed in what is definitely embarrassment, but it looks like he’s flushed for a completely different reason, and you swallow hard. He has these reddening marks on his neck, and you can’t help yourself. You’re back across the room as fast as you can flash step, and it’s probably only his surprise that lets you haul him further up the bed. Crawling on top of him eagerly, you watch his face carefully for any sign that he’s going to freak out or maybe hit you. Or both.

But he doesn’t.

“Okay now?”

He shivers and bites his lip with his over-large front teeth, and your heart does a weird little flip. And then he doesn’t really answer you, just drops his eyes down and turns his head to the side.

You stare for a moment, wondering if this is really happening.

And then he flicks his gaze up to you and arches up just that little bit, and oh, god. He wants it.

Your cock decides that it likes this very much, and you decide to let him know about it. You lower yourself on top of him, winding your fingers in his hair and anchoring his head to the bed, and he doesn’t fight you. He does make a lovely whimpering noise when you grind against him, though, knees bending on either side of you.

“Dave…”

Who can resist that siren song?

You fall into him, lips latching onto his neck, and he sighs. You take that as the go-ahead to suck a bruise into the skin.

He offers up a half-hearted, “D-don’t…” but he’s grinding up into you, hands clenching into your Transformer bedsheets, so you’re damn sure he doesn’t mean it. You appreciate the show, though. You know that he could throw you down with no trouble at all, but he’s fucking _letting_ you do this, and the thrill is going to your head.

Pulling back just long enough to adjust your dick in your jeans, you debate doing the same for him, but you’re pretty sure that once you get your hand on his cock, you’re not letting go until he comes all over you. Which doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but…

John reaches up to pull you back down on top of him, and okay, this is awesome, too. You can feel the heat of him through your pants, and though the friction is delicious as fuck, the thought of doing this naked makes you gasp. His tongue fills your mouth when you do, and you suck on it eagerly, feeling the vibrations as he moans. You rock together, passing little sounds back and forth between you.

He sighs your name, hands going around your hips to encourage you to move faster against him, and he makes breathy little noises every time you push up. The color is high on his cheekbones, and vibrant blue eyes stare up at you, pupils blown wide with lust. And it’s all because of you.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are a sex god.

…your name is Dave Strider, and you definitely just came in your pants like the teenage boy you are.

John blinks, and then his eyes scrunch up as he giggles. But you are not going to take that. No way.

You wrench his head to the side again, ignoring his startled yelp, and lick a wide stripe up his throat. He cries out again when your hand slips between the two of you, and wow, that’s hot. Shifting around so that you’re better balanced, you’ve now got a hand in his hair and a hand between his legs, and you could totally get used to this.

Feeling his dick twitch and pulse is even hotter, though, and you fight the urge to plunge into his pants just to feel it. His breath is leaving him in soft whimpers as he comes down, and your hands are all over his legs, his stomach, his sides, and you press gentle kisses to the marks you’ve left. You really, really hope he doesn’t mind, but you’re not going to tell him about them just yet. You’d rather bask.

He rolls to his side and takes you with him, and then he makes the cutest dissatisfied face you’ve ever seen.

“Dave, I—”

“I know. Me, too. Just gimmie a minute.” Your eyes drift closed, and you’ve still got a post-sex hum running through your veins.

He shifts, and then he crawls half on top of you, blocking out the light from your window and touching your noses together in a gesture that is almost vomit-inducingly sweet, but so very John. You can’t help but smile a little, pushing at his shoulder and cracking your eyes open.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go grab a towel.”

He grins at you and flops back onto the bed. “Good, because this is gross.”

“So picky, princess.”

With a giggle that isn’t entirely rid of roughness, he makes a shooing motion at you, and you manage to stand, feeling like you’re oozing off the bed and more than a bit shaky.

You definitely don’t creep across the hallway to the bathroom, because you definitely haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. Even if your pants are kind of uncomfortable.

You pull open one of the drawers and fish out a towel embroidered with the least disgusting floral pattern you can locate, knowing that John won’t appreciate the irony anyway, and it’s as you’re turning to leave that you see it, sitting out on plain sight on the bathroom counter on top of a delicately-folded towel flower that would put any hotel maid to shame.

A pregnancy test.

Damn you, Bro.


End file.
